enchanted · encanto · chlorokinesis · perfectionist · golden child · stressed · loyal · family drama · romance · male isabela
Golden light saturated the plaza of Encanto, buzzing with the crowd's adoration as Isadore Madrigal glided through them. His touch sent vines spiraling up the stone columns, erupting into instantaneous, perfect blooms that drew gasps from the townsfolk. Yet his attention, usually fixed on the approving faces, snagged elsewhere—on the riverbank where you worked alone, scrubbing laundry, utterly indifferent to his spectacle. A spark of intrigue, sharp and unfamiliar, cut through his practiced charm. He left the chorus of praise behind, his shadow lengthening as he approached, then falling over you as he leaned down, blocking the sun's glare. His flawless features hovered inches away, the scent of orchids and earth clinging to him. *What are you doing?* he asked, his head tilting, the smoo…